Eeth Koth, Jedi Padawan
by Livia Yoran
Summary: This is a Star Wars fan fic involving Eeth Koth in an alternate universe where he is a padawan to one Master Fenya Jaa. This involves comfort, bonding, but also spanking and more severe methods of punishment. If this is not your cup of tea, don't read on. Just for the record, I don't approve of the spanking of real children. This is fiction. D-uh.
1. Chapter 1

Eeth Koth, Jedi Padawan

Eeth Koth, fifteen-year-old Jedi padawan, was not happy. Of course, there were those who claimed the entire concept of happiness was alien to him anyway; but people who knew him well, like his master, could tell his good from his bad moods even when they were hardly apparent from the expression on his face. Right now, his mood was far from good. In his opinion, he ought to use his considerable talents to hunt down drug traders or at least negotiate peace settlements at his master's side. Of course, he realised that he might not be _quite_ far enough advanced in his training to spend _all_ his time on missions, but if that meant he had to spend some time at the Temple, he should at least make use of that time by improving his already extremely impressive lightsaber skills or by furthering his already rather vast knowledge of astrophysics, languages or politics. But what was he doing instead? Supervising _three-year-olds_ in the garden of the junior creche!

He had not even done anything to deserve this, he thought in annoyance. Alright, so he had got into an argument with his master over the concept of "free time". He did not really think he needed any such thing. It was bad enough that they had not been assigned a single mission for two months now. On top of that, his master, refusing to add yet more workouts to their schedule, thought he needed to learn to "unwind". She had also said he needed to learn to patiently wait until it was his turn to do his duty instead of "getting on everyone's nerves and being insufferable", as she had put it. This had caused quite a bit of righteous indignation in her padawan who, grown-up as he thought he was, was a fifteen-year-old teenager after all. Finally, she had lost her patience, telling him that if he wanted to make himself useful that badly, she had just the thing for him. So here he was, in a sunny creche garden, supposed to look after three-year-olds who were running around on the playground. Fortunately, none of the children dared approach him; they were shrinking away from his glower. That was fine with him. As far as he was aware, he was supposed to supervise them and make sure they stuck to the rules, not to _play_ with them. He wasn't even sure how to do that!

"Uh, Pa'wan Eeth?" one timid three-year-old ventured from a safe distance, giving him a beseeching look from large black Nautolan eyes. "Canya fet'th our ball?"

She pointed at a bright yellow ball, stuck in the branches of a tree.

"I will fetch it when we go back in, not now," Eeth said sternly. "You need to learn to pay better attention to your toys."

The look she gave him was one of mixed consternation and hurt, but she did not dare protest. Instead, she backed away from the intimidating Zabrak as fast as possible to join her friends. Eeth did not see why they needed to play ball anyway. There were far better ways to train one's coordination and reflexes. Besides, some of the children were not even doing that, they were pretending to be fairies or something. Had nobody ever told them that fairies did not exist? Surely there were more productive ways to fill these children's time! He did not voice any of these thoughts, however. For one thing, he had learned that this tended to antagonise people; for another thing, this might cause him to become involved with the children more than he strictly needed to, and he did not feel comfortable with that idea. He was vaguely aware that this degree of discomfort in dealing with children was not entirely normal, but he would rather not go into the reasons for it; that would evoke too many memories that he was not keen on thinking about.

About a mind-numbingly boring half hour later, he suddenly spotted a small Twi'lek boy doing something he was definitely not supposed to be doing. Well-hidden by bushes and trees, the child was climbing the fence, enthusiastically urged on by his friends. Eeth had been informed about all the safety rules that were in place. He had also been told that the children knew these rules, and he had been asked to see to it that they were kept. Well, this he could do.

He made his way towards the fence in firm strides and plucked the hapless boy off it. In one smooth motion, as if he had done this a hundred times (as a matter of fact, this was the first!), he tucked the small child under his left arm and brought his right down onto his bottom with a swat that practically rang out through the garden. The child immediately started screaming blue murder. Unperturbed, Eeth dealt out a second swat. He was fully aware of the crowd of children staring at the scene with wide eyes. Well, good. The more they respected his authority, the better. Unfortunately, before he could deal out a third swat, he was stopped short by a hand that had grabbed his padawan braid and turned him around (and that was painful even to him, not that he'd ever show it!).

An irate creche master Shanli-Yan plucked the crying Twi'lek out of Eeth's hold and cradled him against her chest.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked, irritation clear in her voice.  
"He was climbing the fence," Eeth replied evenly. "You told me this was forbidden. I was teaching him to mind the rules."  
"And who told you it was your job to discipline the children?" Shanli-Yan demanded to know. "Let alone with swats that would be harsh for a twelve-year-old, not to speak of children this young? I specifically asked you to fetch me if there was any trouble. There was no call for you to take matters into your own hands. Nor was there any need to start spanking without even a warning."

There was not much he could say to that, and Eeth did not like that. Nor did he generally like being told to fetch an adult for help instead of dealing with things on his own. He liked being in charge; he disliked being dependent. Maybe this was what made him reply in a fashion that he knew was unacceptable.

"They knew the rules, so why should I have bothered with warnings?" he asked haughtily. "You told me to supervise them, not to pat them on the head for rule-breaking."

Shanli-Yan's eyes narrowed.

"I know someone who is definitely not going to receive pats on the head," she said sharply. "I'm going to call your master and ask her to discuss with you appropriate ways to perform your duties and to talk to Jedi masters. For now, though, you can go inside and help Master Roch'lean change the diapers of the toddlers who just woke up from their afternoon nap. Go on. What are you waiting for? Oh, and, by the way, it would not have hurt you to just fetch the ball. The next time you are asked for help, you help."

It took all of Eeth's considerable self-discipline not to stomp off in a fit of temper. Even now, he was very much on his dignity.

When he returned home, his master, was already waiting for him, sitting at the common room table and beckoning him over. He hated such situations. His ambition was perfection, and being reprimanded for some sort of misbehavior did not sit well with him. However, he would never allow himself to run away from facing up to whatever it was that he had done wrong; that would have been cowardly and he hated cowardice.

"I'm sorry, master," he said a little stiffly, walking over to where the Iktotchi woman was sitting and taking a seat on a chair opposite her. "It seems that I was unable to meet Master Shanli-Yan's expectations."

"You are being evasive," his master replied sternly. "This is not about Master Shanli-Yan, this is about you. What did you do?"

Eeth pursed his lips briefly, then said: "I was not very helpful and… kind towards the initiates. When one of them broke a rule, I disciplined him instead of telling his creche master. She… seemed to think I should have uttered a warning and that I was excessively harsh."  
"Yes," Fenya agreed pointedly. "She also seemed to think you were displaying quite an attitude. As far as her expectations are concerned, she was definitely expecting a more respectful tone."

"I might have been… arrogant," Eeth conceded. "I will apologise to her if you wish."  
"I do," said Fenya. "Moreover, I think you desperately need more practice at getting along with people in general, and children in particular. I have enrolled you for two hours of creche duty every weekday and five on Saturdays and Sundays until further notice; most likely until we are assigned the next mission."

Eeth was dumbfounded for a moment, and that did not happen often.

"Master, could you… reconsider?" he finally asked, and that was another thing he did not do often. "I volunteer for any other type of duty. I will gladly clean the refreshers in the healers' wing or scrub the fountains."  
"And what would you learn from that?" his master asked, implacably. "No, padawan. Creche duty it is."  
Eeth recognised that he was fighting a losing battle, but the thought of being saddled with creche duty for the next days or weeks was so horrifying that he gave it another try.

"Master, I am no good at this," he said earnestly, and the fact that he even thought of uttering such a thing was proof of how desperate he was. "I scare the children. I do not know what to do with them. You are not doing them a favor. My time would be much better invested doing other things."  
"What's this?" Fenya asked, giving him a politely incredulous look. "You are giving up on yourself? You want to run away from a task you find challenging? Do you think this will be too hard for you? Are you _afraid_?"

It was a tactic worthy of a three-year-old, but she knew it would work. Eeth knew that she knew it and hated himself for reacting exactly as she had anticipated; but there was absolutely no way that he would ever admit failure or, Force forbid, fear.

"Of course I am not afraid," he said with as much dignity as he could muster. "I was merely thinking of the children's benefit. If you insist I do this, I will."  
"Oh, yes, I insist," his master replied firmly. "I absolutely do. And what is more, I _order_ you to make an effort to establish some kind of relationship with the children. And I don't mean the kind of relationship where they are afraid you will paddle their bottoms if they act up. Be _nice_. Be _helpful_. Be _gentle_. If I hear otherwise, I will not be pleased. Is that clear?"

Issuing orders usually worked well with Eeth. He might not like them, but he liked disobedience even less.

Eeth scowled. However, he said quietly: "Yes, master." He just hoped he knew how to be all these things. He wasn't entirely sure.

"Eeeeeth!" the nearly-four-year-old human girl wailed, clinging to the highest rope of the climbing net with her dark brown arms. "I can't get dowwwwwwn!"

With an internal sigh, Eeth moved over to her. What would be the "gentle" and "kind" thing to do, he wondered? Plucking her off the rope and putting her down? But how would she ever learn if he did that? The last time he had tried to teach one of the children a lesson, though, it had backfired spectacularly. Of course, he mused, there might theoretically be ways to teach lessons that involved being "gentle" and "kind". He'd give it a shot.

"If you can get up, you can get down, too," he said reasonably, standing next to Nganshi.

"But I'm afraaaaid!" she wailed.

"Well, that's–" Eeth started, but swallowed the word "stupid" before he had said it. "Pointless," he said instead. "Look, I'll teach you how to get down."

Nganshi shook her head vigorously, squeezing her eyes shut.

"But, uh," Eeth said, searching for arguments. "It would be practical," he tried. "You could go up and down on your own all the time, see? And I'll take care you don't fall. I'll catch you if you do. Look!"  
He waited until Nganshi had tentatively opened one eye, then unclipped his lightsaber from his belt, tossed it into the air and, when it started to fall, used the Force to hold it in mid-air.

"See?" he said, reattaching his saber to his belt. "I could do the same thing if you fell. Will you let me help? Think how proud you will be if you can do this on your own."

He threw a quick look around to make sure none of the other children was in danger or up to mischief, then started coaching Nganshi through the process. Remembering his master's order, he offered encouragement whenever her feet found the next rope and uttered no more than mild admonishment when she hesitated. Finally, she jumped down to the ground, beaming all over her face.

"Again!" she yelled, instantly climbing up again. Eeth groaned.

"I have received a favorable report about you," Fenya remarked as Eeth said down opposite her in the dining hall, placing his tray onto the table.  
"What, does Master Shanli-Yan give you blow-by-blow accounts of my activities?" Eeth asked in the level tone of voice that indicated he was not altogether pleased. "In any case, I have no idea what I did that was particularly praiseworthy."

"Among other things, she said you can be a very good teacher if you apply yourself," Fenya replied. "And unusually patient if you choose to be."

"Given that I was ordered to be _gentle_ ," Eeth replied solemnly, "it is not as if I had a choice."

His master grinned; despite the fact that the expression on Eeth's face was inscrutable, she recognised her padawan's way of teasing her.

"Then it is good you have someone to give you orders, for now," she said, leaning back and biting into a bwalla fruit. She was confident that her padawan was going to turn into a formidable Jedi if only he learned to conquer his arrogance and to nurture his underdeveloped people skills to a certain extent. Encouraging him to do so was her job, and the creche duty she was currently making him do was an essential part of that job.

"Terren, you always need to hold your saber with both hands," Eeth told a five-year-old who was making his first attempts with a children's training saber. "If you don't, it will be knocked out of your hand faster than you can look."

"But I can move it like this, look!" Terren protested, twirling his saber around in a circle. "Isn't it cool?"  
"No," Eeth said decisively. "It's entirely useless. Focus on what you want to achieve here, not on the looks."

He had been helping out in the creche for close to three weeks now. After a week with the three-year-olds, he had been moved to an infant creche where he had been bored out of his mind and changed enough dirty diapers to last him a lifetime. The third week wasn't so bad; he was assisting various instructors with teaching a group five- to six-year-olds the basics of Force work and combat training. He had worked with them on rolling falls for two afternoons, on basic levitation for two more, and then moved on to introductory lightsaber training. Today was Saturday, and the group was being taught their first basic attack and defense sequence, together with the fundamentals of placing their feet.

Eeth turned towards Tapsi in order to correct her stance, then turned back to find Terren twirling his saber around with one arm again, an impish grin on his face.

"Terren, _both_ hands," he said firmly. "Do that again and you will run ten laps around the gym, understood?"

"Yes, Eeth," Terren mumbled sheepishly.

'There,' Eeth thought with some satisfaction. 'I gave him warning.'

By now, he had learned that he was not expected to refrain entirely from reprimanding or even disciplining the children. He was, however, expected to take into account their age; he was supposed to give warnings; and he wasn't to mete out corporal punishment, but leave that to the creche masters. Eeth had found that there were other ways to assert his authority, though. He had also found that he liked teaching. The instructors seemed quite happy with his performance. He frequently managed to teach individual children things that they had found difficult to master, which made the children happy and was quite a satisfactory feeling. He much preferred this to the infant creche!

He encouraged Tapsi to attack him and, in reward for the good effort she made, allowed her to score a hit, which everybody cheered at. Next was Terren who obviously wanted to prove something because he immediately charged as if he was holding a rapier, thrusting his lightsaber out with his right hand, holding his left behind his back. Quick as lightning, Eeth knocked it out of his hands, and it went sailing through the air.

"Ten laps," he said firmly, folding his arms across his chest and pointing a glare at Terren. "Now."

"Awww, c'mon," Terren complained. "I thought it'd work, alright? I won't do it again if it's such a big deal."  
He bent down to retrieve his saber. Eeth pulled him up by an ear.

"Ouch!" yelled Terren. Eeth caught Knight Ptchen's eyes and gave him a questioning look; the instructor nodded at him, almost imperceptibly.

Coming to a decision, Eeth braced the junior padawan against his hip and delivered three firm, but measured swats to his bottom that elicited loud yelps.

"When I tell you to run laps, you run laps," he told the hapless initiate without letting him up. "And when I tell you to hold your saber with both hands, you do just that. You do not get to negotiate your teachers' instructions. And that is a rule you know perfectly well. Are you going to behave now or do you want to discuss this with your creche master?"  
Terren knew that this would most likely mean a painful run-in with a cooking spoon, and he was not keen on that at all.

"I'll behave," he said quickly and a little tearfully, for the swats, while not being excessive, had stung.

"Good," said Eeth grimly. "Fifteen laps, then. Starting now, unless you want to make it twenty?"

"No, no," Terren said even more quickly and started running.

"Was that alright?" Eeth asked Ptchen quietly a moment later as Ptchen came his way, fetching a bunch of blindfolds.

Ptchen knew what he meant immediately.

"Absolutely," he said quietly. "I would have done exactly the same thing. Terren badly needs to learn that the gym is not a playground and that a lightsaber is not a toy. As long as you don't start dealing out full-fledged spankings, I'm sure his creche master won't object. And, by the way: You did a fine job with Tapsi."

He gave Eeth a brief smile and started handing out blindfolds to his initiates.

Eeth, in the meanwhile, went to fetch the training droids, but was cut short when his comlink beeped. He had switched it off before the lesson, but emergency calls always went through.

"Master?" he asked, having recognised her code and accepted the call.

"Eeth, I'm sorry, but you need to cut short whatever you're doing," Fenya's hologram said. "We have been assigned a mission and we are leaving immediately. One of our knights was taken hostage on Wantodar, and time is of the essence."

"I will be home in ten minutes," Eeth promised her. He had a brief exchange of words with Knight Ptchen who dismissed him immediately, said goodbye to the initiates and was on his way home with fast strides, just short of a run which would, of course, have been forbidden in the Temple corridors.


	2. Chapter 2

Less than two days later, Fenya found herself backed up against a wall, her saber a blur as it deflected blaster shots coming at her from five droidekas from three different directions. Eeth was giving her cover, so at least nothing and nobody was going to come at her from the rooftop above. She knew she could rely on him. As for the droidekas, they were a nasty piece of work; but one had already collapsed under the barrage of deflected shots fired back at it, and she was confident that the other five would follow suit in due time. Well, they really would have to because her focus was beginning to waver. It had been an exhausting night with no sleep.

Suddenly, there was a different kind of fire. She could only just sense it coming and dodge in time. These were plasma blasters whose shots could not be deflected by sabers. They were coming from a rooftop above the array of droidekas facing her, and they were almost certainly being fired by very well-protected living, sentient snipers. Cursing softly under her breath, she weaved and dodged the shots as she continued to deflect the droidekas' fire. She was fully aware that she was not going to be able to hold out for long this way. Fortunately, Eeth was guarding the rooftop above her. She would just have to escape by a Force-enhanced jump. They would have to withdraw and develop a new strategy.

Just as she was preparing to jump, however, several things happened at once. The two droidekas facing her were collapsing into heaps of smouldering metal nearly simultaneously from having taken one too many deflected blaster bolts, and the plasma fire ended very suddenly. So did the human presences on the rooftop – she could not sense them any longer. Instead, the silhouette of a young Zabrak made a very brief appearance, giving her the thumbs up, and took cover again. She had not been aware his shields were this good. He must have known she would not allow him to have a go at the snipers, and therefore he had concealed his moves, even to her, with a degree of perfection that she had had no idea he was capable of. However, she had no time to ponder this right now. It took her several more minutes to take down the remaining droidekas; then she joined Eeth on the opposite rooftop.

"There's an entrance here," Eeth said in greeting, pointing at a trapdoor. She glared at him, but there was no time for voicing her displeasure now. Reinforcement might appear any moment. Knight Vladantlak was severely injured, and they needed to get her out as fast as possible.

Three hours later, Fenya was bringing their speeder to a halt in the confines of the Republican Embassy where they were safe for the moment. During the whole trip, which had taken place at breathtaking speed, Eeth had alternated between deflecting shots from pursuers and tending to Knight Vladantlak who was barely conscious. Fenya knew that he was far better at Force-healing than she was and she was glad for it. The hostage-takers had been quite ruthless. Thankfully, she had a padawan who did not lose his composure easily.

"Get her to the medics," she instructed Eeth. "Find out whether she's fit to be transported back to Coruscant. I'll get our ship ready. If we cannot take her, we'll have to ask the Temple for alternative instructions."

Another two hours later, Knight Vladantlak had been put into a state of stasis and placed inside a portable bacta tank which had been installed in their spaceship. It was a piloted ship, so navigation was not an issue for Fenya and Eeth. While the pilot fired up the engines, Fenya lost no time pointing Eeth to their room.

"Suppose you tell me what business you had climbing that rooftop and taking out the snipers?" she asked tersely, folding her arms across her chest and glaring at him.

"You told me to give you cover," Eeth replied in a deadpan tone of voice. "I did."

"I told you to give me cover from the rooftop," Fenya said sharply. "And I think you know exactly which rooftop I meant. Didn't you?"

She knew she had to ask Eeth direct questions if she wanted to get answers.

"I did," Eeth conceded. "But I did not disobey you outright."  
"Don't you get started on technicalities," Fenya snapped. "You purposely avoided asking for permission; you even shielded your presence from me. That is as good as disobeying me outright. And if you do that during a mission, you know what to expect."

Eeth shrugged.

"I do," he said almost casually. "Sure, I saved the mission, I suppose, but if you insist on thinking of it as disobedience, I won't argue. Shall we get it over with, then?"  
Fenya looked at him with narrowed eyes. Her padawan had a very high tolerance for pain, even higher than most Zabrak, and using corporal punishment on him was entirely ineffective unless his mindset was such that he was able to accept the correction. This was most definitely not the case right now.

"I do not care for your attitude," she said in that low, stern voice that was reserved for cases in which she was very seriously displeased. " _We_ are not going to get anything over with at all. I am your master, and I am the one who takes the decisions. Including the decision on how and when to administer punishment. Every punishment is an opportunity for you to learn and grow. As long as you do not accept it as such, it will serve no purpose. At present, you are undeserving of the time and effort it would require on my part to correct you. Now excuse me. I will see whether the pilot needs any help."

She rose and made her way to the cockpit, leaving behind a padawan who was suddenly feeling acutely uncomfortable. He had known that his master would consider his actions disobedient, but he had also known that the only reason for which she had told him to stay behind was her desire to protect him. And that was simply infuriating. He was more than capable, and he did not need to be coddled. Had it not been for his interference, his master would have had to flee, and they might still not have rescued Knight Vladantlak by now! Still, his master's apparent disappointment did not sit well with him. He always aspired to living up to her expectations, and today, he felt that he had fallen short of that ambition. Even if he did not agree with her, which he didn't.

Several hours of flight time passed by, and his master still gave no sign of wanting to mention the issue again. She was polite, maybe slightly distant; but then, she often was, because Eeth rarely invited shows of intimacy. When they turned in for their evening meditation, Eeth finally could not stand it any longer.

"Master, I apologise for my disobedience," he said solemnly. "And of course, I will accept whatever punishment you see fit."  
Fenya's eyebrows rose. "Padawan, we have been there," she said firmly. "You might accept punishment, but you will not submit to it because you do not really think there was anything wrong with what you did. And I will not discuss this matter with you any longer right now. Maybe later, if I feel that your attitude has changed. For now, the topic is closed."  
Eeth was not used to his master dealing with things this way, and it unsettled him. Nevertheless, he recognised that he would only exacerbate his troubles if he pressed her further, and besides, he did not want to make a nuisance out of himself. Therefore, he let the matter rest.

Fortunately, the flight did not take more than a day. They arrived at the Temple in the early afternoon and were received by a team of healers who immediately took charge of Knight Vladantlak. Eeth and his master went home to drop off their baggage, then proceeded to the Council chamber as they had been asked to give their mission report right away. In the past, Fenya had occasionally given Eeth the opportunity to present their report, but this time, she did all the talking which showed him that he was not yet in her good books again. His uneasiness increased as she asked to speak to the Council alone after they were done giving their report.

"Go wait outside, Eeth," she said in a no-nonsense tone of voice.  
"But–master!" Eeth protested in spite of himself, this turn of events totally taking him by surprise.

"Asked you to wait outside, your master has," Yoda said firmly, rapping his gimer stick onto the floor. "Obey her, you will. Go."

Eeth was so flabbergasted at being spoken to this way by the diminutive Councillor with whom he usually got along rather well that he obeyed without further backtalk. Pacing around the antechamber, he wondered what his master was up to.

Fenya lost no time in detailing her padawan's disobedience.

"What worries me most is the fact that it was so spectacularly successful," she said. "He is almost incredibly good at most things, and that is making him arrogant and overconfident. If he keeps overestimating his abilities, he might very well end up dead long before his time."

"Have you punished him for his disobedience?" Tvaren Angatak asked.

Fenya shook her head.

"No, and for good reason," she replied. "At present, he is convinced that he did the right thing. No punishment I could mete out would change that. I will punish him, but only when he has attained a humbler state of mind than he has now. And for that to happen, I think he needs to be shown his limits. My problem is that he is by now at least as good as I am with a saber. Therefore, I am asking you to assign him a teacher who will be able to show him his weaknesses. The faster and the more drastically, the better."

After half an hour, she emerged from the Council chamber to meet a padawan who was trying valiantly, and with an admirable degree of success, to hide his nervousness.

"Come, padawan, we are going home," she merely said, walking towards the turbolift. There was nothing more; no information about her talk was forthcoming

Well, Eeth thought, if she wanted to be secretive, fine. He was not going to do her the favor to ask her what went on. She was not going to tell him anyway unless she felt ready to do so. Not many padawans at fifteen would have been able to suppress their curiosity in such a situation, but controlling such impulses was something that Eeth was annoyingly good at. Well, annoying to some people. Not to his master who knew him longer than anyone else at the Temple. And who could predict his reactions altogether too well, in his opinion…

The next day was a Saturday, which suited Fenya just fine.

"Three announcements," she said over breakfast. "One, you are going to resume creche duty tomorrow."

Eeth suppressed a groan, but barely so.

"Will you make me do that until I am knighted?" he asked in a tone that came as close to being plaintive as any he had ever used.

"I will make you do it for as long as I think you benefit from it," Fenya replied neutrally. "And given your behavior during our mission, I don't think you are in any position to utter complaints. Just so you know, the Council is watching you closely. One more instance of disobedience during a mission, and you will be put on probation. Which is my second announcement."

Eeth nearly choked on his bread.

"P-probation?" he asked, trying to catch his breath. If he had thought the imposition of creche duty had hit him below the belt, that was nothing against the threat of being put on probation. Probation was for… well, for the others. For _teenagers_ who behaved like _adolescents_. Who were obnoxious, disrespectful, broke the rules, and were - uh, disobedient. For all the wrong reasons, of course. _He_ had been disobedient for the right reasons, but apparently, the Council did not agree. Whatever he thought of that, Eeth was immediately determined to avoid being put on probation at all cost.

After all this, he was not overly keen on hearing the third announcement, but it did not seem as if his master was planning on giving him a choice.

"Third, until further notice your lightsaber training will be taken over by Master Bai Li," Fenya said. "Starting in forty minutes, in fact. He will be waiting for you at the entrance to the main gym."

Eeth was lucky not to be chewing on any bread this time, or he would have choked again. As it was, he merely stared at his master as if she had suddenly turned into a nerf.

"Bai Li?" he asked, wanting to make sure he had heard correctly.  
"Bai Li," Fenya replied calmly.

Bai Li's prowess at wielding a lightsaber was legendary. At this point, he was probably second only to Yoda. He had served two terms on the Jedi High Council, then had resumed active field duty at his own request and was therefore rarely at the Temple. When he was, he never performed in front of an audience, but kept his workouts to private training rooms. Consequently, Eeth had never seen him fight; he had only heard rumors.

Very well, he thought; this was an opportunity to find out whether the rumors were true. If they were, he could learn a lot. But maybe they weren't. Besides, Bai Li was human and therefore must be getting old. Eeth, on the other hand, was young, and he was _good_ with a saber. No padawan his age was better than him, and even among the older padawans and junior knights there were few who could beat him. His own master had admitted that she could only just hold her own against him (although her defenses were impeccable and he could not usually breach them). Maybe this Bai Li was in for a surprise.

Eeth arrived at the main gym well in time, dressed in a training uniform, to find Master Bai Li waiting for him. There was no mistaking the man. He was somewhere between fifty and sixty, and even though he was only moderately tall and moderately broad-shouldered, he was the type of person who seemed to tower over everyone else. His skin was light, his eyes were almond-shaped and black, and there was something elegant to the fine curve of his mouth, the bridge of his nose and the arches of his eyebrows. His head was shaven bald, with the exception of a thin braid at the base of his neck. He was wearing a black training uniform that did not give away much of his body, so Eeth had no idea how muscular it was. He supposed he was going to find out soon.

"Master Bai Li," Eeth said respectfully, bowing to the man.

"Padawan Eeth," Bai Li replied, returning the bow. "I am pleased to meet you. Shall we get started?"  
"With pleasure," said Eeth.

The pleasure did not last long. He did not remember the last time he had been flattened this fast, but it must have been a long time ago. Staring after his lightsaber which hurled towards the ceiling, he managed to dodge one more attack before Master Bai Li's saber was at his throat.

"However did you do that?" he asked in complete bewilderment.

"You are too confident," Bai Li replied serenely. "That causes you to leave openings for your opponent. Less experienced opponents might not notice, and less skilled opponents might not be fast enough to exploit them. But can you count on meeting less experienced and less skilled opponents all the time?"  
Eeth did not know what to say to that.

"Can you show me what I'm doing wrong?" he asked instead. "I want to improve."

"What you're doing wrong is your attitude," Bai Li replied. "You know you're good, and that's how you fight. If you focussed more on the Force and less on your ambitions, you would be a much better fighter."

The lesson continued in much the same way. Bai Li persisted in humiliating Eeth in front of the whole main gym – or at least that was the way it felt to Eeth who was acutely aware that a lot of people were watching by now. He would certainly not humiliate himself any further by asking his teacher to stop the lesson or to move it to a private training room, though. He simply gritted his teeth and persevered. His teacher continued refusing to point out individual mistakes that caused his student to lose his fights; whenever Eeth asked him about those, the only answer he received was that he needed to change his attitude. Eeth had not felt this frustrated and unsettled in a long time. When the lesson was over, he felt shattered, both physically and mentally. He thanked his teacher with a wordless bow, grabbed his gym bag and stumbled out of the training room, deciding to take his shower at home, much against his usual habit.

He gave his master no more than a silent nod as he crossed the common room, too wrapped up in his misery to offer more. Making for his refresher, he took a quick shower, then emerged into his room and sank down onto his meditation mat. The Force had always been his refuge when he had been hungry, in pain, confused, desperate or otherwise needy, and today was no different. Focussing on the Force calmed him down like nothing else could. It also helped him to see himself in a much clearer light. The truth, as he started to realise during his meditation, was that he had come to consider himself invincible. That was what had motivated him to act as he had during their mission. It was what drove his way of sparring. And it was what had been his downfall in his match against Master Bai Li. If that was the case, it could have been his downfall in other situations just as well; while taking down the snipers on the rooftop, for example. He had known from the outset that his master had made him stay behind in order to protect him, but so far, he had not been willing to acknowledge that she might have had reason to do so. Today's lesson had taught him better. He was not invincible, and he had refused to see that. Now wonder his master had seen no point in punishing him.

About an hour and a half after he had come back from the gym, he entered the common room where his master was sitting, drinking tea and reading. She looked up as he approached her. He offered her a respectful bow.

"Master," he said. "May I talk to you?"

"You may," she said solemnly, inviting him to sit.

Sitting down on a chair without really paying attention to what he was doing, he said without preamble: "Master, I would like to thank you for making me work out with Master Bai Li. I might learn a lot from him if I ever manage to hold my own for more than thirty seconds, but more importantly, today's lesson taught me that I am not as invincible as I thought I am. I was arrogant, and I really believed I could not go wrong. That is why I disobeyed you. I still think I did the right thing, but I did it for the wrong reasons and with the wrong attitude. I would like to apologise. Will you accept my apology?"

Fenya scrutinised him for a moment. She did not doubt his sincerity; Eeth was nothing if not honest. But his apology had not only been sincere, it had also been heartfelt. Pairing Eeth with Bai Li had obviously been a good choice, and she was glad of it. At the Council's request, Bai Li had agreed to teach her padawan for at least the next three months to come, and Fenya had no doubt that, with his newly gained humility, her padawan would benefit from the lessons greatly.

"I do accept your apology," she replied calmly. "And I also think that now would be an excellent time to address the matter of punishment."

Eeth experienced conflicting emotions at that statement. His high tolerance of pain did not mean that he actually enjoyed being in pain; far from it. He had really hoped that creche duty and the threat of being put on probation were punishment enough. Apparently, his master thought otherwise. And, if he was honest with himself (which he tried to be), he knew he deserved to be properly punished. Besides, he would not feel as if things were right with his master if he wasn't.

"I will accept whatever punishment you decide on, master," he said quietly. On an impulse, he added: "Thank you for going to the effort of correcting me." Even more quietly, he continued: "For thinking I deserve it."  
Fenya was unaccountably touched for a moment. Her padawan, despite often being an insufferably arrogant perfectionist, possessed a sincerity and integrity that were downright disarming at times.

"You are welcome," she said softly. "Now, please fetch me the cane. Then bare your bottom and bend over the table."

Eeth did as she asked him to without a word of protest. He knew to place his head onto the table and wrap his hands around its legs at the far end without being told.

Fenya was aware that Eeth was supremely good at internally withdrawing from the pain. He had internalised this skill during his infernal childhood years on Nar Shaddaa. He knew better than to draw on the Force in order to deal with pain during a punishment, but even then, it had to be a fairly harsh punishment to get through to him.

She laid down the first stroke, not holding back much. Eeth did not even flinch, although she could tell that it required some effort on his part to control his breathing.

"Tell me what you are being punished for," she ordered.

She knew that her padawan hated this ritual, but that was rather the point.

"I was arrogant, and disobedient," Eeth said. "I thought I–"

"Enough, for now," she cut him short. "Let's start with your disobedience. What does the Jedi code have to say on obedience?"

Eeth drew a deep breath.

"The Jedi shackle themselves in chains of obedience," he said. The second stroke, closely below the first, caused him to flinch and pause for a moment, but the he continued. „Obedience to the Jedi Council; obedience to their Masters; obedience to the Republic," he added, only to be rewarded with a third stroke that caused him to hold his breath for a moment.

„Was that how you acted during our mission?" Fenya asked.

„No," Eeth said, fighting to keep his voice even. „I'm sorry, master."  
The last word turned into some kind of hiss as the fourth stroke struck its target. His master's cane was one she would not have used on a padawan from a humanoid species that was less good at coping with pain; it was long, thick and heavy and at the same time wickedly flexible. Still, even without being allowed to draw on the Force to shield himself from the pain, Eeth could probably have kept up some semblance of composure for quite a while, had it not been for the fact that his master was making him talk all the time. This made it so much harder to suppress sounds of distress, to hide the fact that his breath was hitching and his voice was breaking. Today's punishment was so long and so thorough that by the end of it, Eeth was crying quietly, as much from the pain of it as from shame over his behavior which his master had relentlessly made him dissect at great detail while turning his bottom into a painful mass of nasty welts (which she would provide a generous amount of bacta for, but only later today).

Fenya was not about to embarrass her softly crying padawan by pulling him into a hug, but neither was she about to allow him to run away from her the second she allowed him to rise. She put a hand on his shoulder, turned him around to face her and lifted his chin with one finger, forcing him to look her into the eyes.

"Do me a big favor and learn from this," she told him. "If you don't manage conquer your overconfidence, I will not take you on missions again. I'm serious about this. I don't want to see you dead."

Eeth was silent for a moment, making an intense, and mostly successful, effort to get his tears under control, despite the fact that his bottom felt as if he had been made to sit in a fire pit.

"I know," he finally said in a slightly raspy voice. "The thing is… neither do I want to see _you_ dead."  
For once, Fenya did not know what to say to that. Eeth was not normally one to express his feelings, and such a verbal show of loyalty and affection was highly unusual for him.

"I understand," she finally said softly. "I think we both agree that none of us wants to see the other dead. But you need to accept that it is _my_ job to protect _you_ , not the other way round. That way, I can make sure you grow old enough to take on a padawan of your own; and you can offer all the protection you want once that's the case. For now, I will have to rely on you to obey me, or I will not be able to take you out into the field any longer."

Eeth nodded.

"I will obey," he promised.

"Good," said Fenya gently. "Now go, put the cane away and clean yourself up a little. I will prepare some lunch."

Eeth nodded again.

"Master?" he said, just as she was about to turn towards the kitchen.

"Yes?" she said, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Thank you," said Eeth sincerely. "For… for everything. Especially for not giving up on me."  
Fenya smiled.

"I will never give up on you," she promised. "And, Eeth? Disobedience aside, you did extremely well during our mission. I am truly proud of you."

Eeth merely nodded; but his impassive features could not hide the fact that he was thankful and pleased.


End file.
